


When Shadows Meet

by cywscross



Series: When Shadows Meet [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/pseuds/cywscross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the court, they’re rivals, even enemies. Off the court, they've been friends since that dark November morning mere days after his school’s crushing defeat at the hands of the Generation of Miracles when Kuroko appeared on his doorstep with desolate eyes and an apology on his lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Shadows Meet

                _“Kazu!”  His mother called from outside his bedroom door, sounding uncertain and worried as she had been for days now ever since Kazunari had dragged himself home with hollow eyes and hunched shoulders and Akashi Seijuurou’s words echoing like a gong in his head.  “Someone’s here to see you.  He says his name is Kuroko Tetsuya.  He’s waiting at the door.  Do you want to come out for a bit?”_

_Kazunari stirred from where he was lying on his bed.  The lights were off and the curtains were drawn._

_Kuroko Tetsuya, the Phantom Sixth Member of the Generation of Miracles.  Kazunari couldn't really remember much of that basketball player’s actions on the court.  Overall, it had been the other five who had dominated the entire game._

_(“You are worthless,” The red-haired captain tells him, heterochromic eyes cold, and his smirk cruel as he towered over Kazunari.  “Losers are only fit to kneel at my feet.  Now that you recognize where you belong, stay there.  Oppose me again, and I will kill you.”)_

 

                _Kazunari turned to face the wall and didn’t answer.  He didn't need to hear anymore words from those people that would only further crush his heart and his dreams and his love for basketball._

 

 

* * *

 

 

                “I got Midorima!”  Kazunari ranted into his phone as he walked down one hallway in the general direction of the gyms.  “ _How_ did I get Midorima?!  _Why_ did I get Midorima?!  I bet you _knew_ I was going to get Midorima, didn’t you?!”

 

                _“I did not,”_ Kuroko denied from the other end, and then tacked on in that utterly unflappable voice that always amazed and perturbed Kazunari in turn, _“At least not until last week when I looked up all the teams that will be taking part in the Interhigh championship this year.  The school term has just begun but many basketball teams have already put their schools down for that tournament, and the matchups for the preliminaries will start being posted two weeks from now.”_

 

                “And you couldn't have _told_ me all this last week?!”  Kazunari complained loudly as he jogged around a corner and headed for one of the sports complex on the other side of the school.  Shuutoku was pretty big.  “We went out for dinner on Saturday!”

 

                _“You didn't ask,”_ Kuroko pointed out, perfectly deadpan, and Kazunari had to resist slamming his head against the nearest wall.  Probably not a good idea since he had math class after morning practice.

 

                “Kuroko,” Kazunari sighed instead.  “We need to talk about your taste in jokes.  It sucks.”

 

                _“I am not joking,”_ Kuroko retorted without missing a beat.  _“I have no sense of humour.”_

 

                “Uh-huh,” Kazunari grinned wryly.  “So who taught my little sister how to tie-dye all my socks last month while I was out on a coffee run?”

 

                _“You shouldn't give Himawari-san access to the internet if you don’t want her curiosity to come back and haunt you,”_ Kuroko countered mildly without so much as a blip in his bland voice.  He might as well be commenting on the weather.  Kazunari couldn't help laughing.

 

                “And I suppose she bought all the supplies herself?”  Kazunari enquired rhetorically.  “You're just lucky Mom likes you.  You should’ve seen her face when she came home and saw the new pile of laundry.  Then she laughed at me!  You're lucky _I_ like you!”

 

                _“Yes, I am,”_ Kuroko agreed, just like that, and even with his monotone voice, there was no mistaking the sincerity of the words, and Kazunari felt a helplessly fond smile tug at the corners of his lips before he could curb it.

 

                “You are so-” He cut himself off, mostly because he couldn't find an adjective strong enough or _right_ enough to describe Kuroko.  “Moron.”

 

                This time, Kuroko stayed quiet on the other end for a long moment.  Kazunari could pick up the sound of other voices and distant traffic, and he guessed that Kuroko was also on his way to basketball practice.

 

                _“...Try to get along with him?”_   Kuroko spoke up again at last, and Kazunari sobered even as he came to a stop at the gym doors.  Inside, he could see the familiar green-haired figure of one of the five people who had once almost made him give up basketball, almost crushed him with despair.

 

                “Well,” Kazunari said lightly as he leaned against the wall beside the doorway.  “It’s kinda pointless to keep holding a grudge now that he’s my teammate.  I suppose I’ll just have to get him to recognize me instead.”  He paused.  “...We’ll officially be enemies on the court after this, Kuroko.”

 

                _“Yes,”_ Kuroko agreed evenly.  _“I look forward to it.”_

 

                Kazunari laughed again, tension leaking out of his frame.  “Alright then, I won’t go easy on you either.  You better train like hell if you even want to stand a chance because Shuutoku’s aiming right for the top.”

 

                This time, Kazunari could hear the smile in Kuroko’s voice, steel in every word.  _“So will Seirin, Takao-kun.”_

 

                _‘But the championships aren’t really what you're aiming for,’_ Kazunari thought as he stepped into the gym after tucking his cell phone away.  _‘You’re aiming higher than that, higher than the Interhigh, higher even than the Winter Cup.  You're already looking beyond that.  Those tournaments are just a means to an end for you.  A means to topple the Generation of Miracles from their thrones.’_

 

                As he set down his bag, he glanced over his shoulder at Midorima Shintarou who had just effortlessly put in another three-pointer, looking completely bored out of his mind with apathetic arrogance etched in every line of his features as he grabbed another ball, ignoring the students around him even when a few tried to compliment him.

 

                _‘A means to topple the Generation of Miracles from their thrones,’_ Kazunari repeated as he began his warm-up.  _‘Before they fall from grace themselves.  And God help me, I'm going to have to be one of the obstacles standing in Kuroko’s way just because I now play on the same team as this guy.  But Kuroko said to try and get along with him; what does that even mean?  I'm on the same time as Midorima now; at least on the court, we_ have _to get along.  That is, if Midorima deigns get off his high horse and play with the rest of the team- oh._ That’s _what he means.’_

 

                As Midorima scored another three-pointer before brushing off one of his teammates’ attempt at conversation, Kazunari couldn't see how Kuroko was going to change all five Generation of Miracles when even just one looked like a headache and a half.

 

                Still, if there was one person Kazunari could honestly say he believed could do just about anything, change anyone, it would have to be Kuroko Tetsuya.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                _“-you for letting me in, Takao-san.”_

 

                _“Well, I do hope you can do something.  My son’s barely eaten anything ever since that match against Teikou.  I know his school lost but surely it wasn't so bad?  Are you on Kazunari’s team as well?  I've never seen you before.”_

 

                _“No, I'm not on his team.  However, I am here to help.”_

 

                _“Okay then, I’ll be downstairs if either of you boys need anything.  Do try to at least get him to come out, please?”_

_“Of course.”_

_Kazunari listened numbly as his mother’s footsteps faded away, and then he listened to the silence that followed in her wake._

_Why had his mother let some random middle school student into the house?  Even if that guy – Kuroko, was it? – hadn't introduced himself as a student of Teikou Junior High, he clearly wasn't one of Kazunari’s friends or even teammates._

_Kazunari didn't_ have _any teammates anymore, or friends for that matter.  The entire team had quit in the aftermath of their game against Teikou, and more than one of them had bitterly announced that they never wanted to see any of them again because it brought back too many bad memories._

_Two knocks sounded at the door.  “Excuse me, Takao-kun.  My name is Kuroko Tetsuya from Teikou’s basketball club.”_

_A pause.  This Kuroko guy had the most monotonous tone of voice Kazunari had ever heard in his entire life._

_“I would like to apologize on behalf of my teammates,” Kuroko continued, and Kazunari froze.  “I know this is nowhere near enough to fix what has been broken for you but it is all I can offer.  Is there anything I can do help you?”_

_What.  The.  Heck._

_Kazunari actually sat up, and his head spun because he really hadn't moved for who-knew-how-many hours since the night before when he had hauled himself out of bed just to go to the bathroom before returning to it._

_Nothing more was said, and before Kazunari could really register what he was doing, he was already out of bed and shuffling for his bedroom door._

_‘Go away’ or ‘I don’t want any Teikou basketball player here’ or even just the general ‘What the heck’ from before all ran through Kazunari’s head as he opened the door a crack.  In the end, none of it made it off his tongue when he found himself peering out at a boy with light blue hair and eyes, a small build wrapped in a slightly oversized winter coat, and a pokerface that would've made a brick wall jealous._

_However, it was the eyes that caught Kazunari’s attention.  Not the colour, because his own eyes were silvery blue – more silver than blue – and he knew there were weird eye colours out there (the Generation of Miracles)._

_It was the look in them.  The utter desolation behind the blankness.  It was the same thing Kazunari saw in his own eyes when he had glimpsed his reflection in the mirror after the Teikou game._

_He couldn't understand why someone belonging to the team that had obliterated his would look like that._

_Which was probably why he blurted out, angrier than he meant to, than he expected, “What’s wrong with you?  You're Teikou, right?  And a Generation of Miracles at that.  Why would you even come all this way to apologize?”_

_Kuroko only blinked, completely unaffected by Kazunari’s outburst.  Instead, he backed up a few steps before dipping into a bow from the waist.  And he apologized again.  And asked if there was anything he could do.  Again._

_“Why?”  Kazunari could only ask, confused and tired and so, so sick of Teikou and the Generation of Miracles and basketball and even just life in general._

_When Kuroko straightened, Kazunari saw the exact same things staring back at him.  It was unnerving._

_“Because it’s the only thing left I can do right now,” Kuroko stated simply.  “Because I don’t want to see other people hate basketball because of them, and because I don’t want them to break one day when they finally see what they’ve done to so many people.”_

_Kazunari didn't understand half of what Kuroko was saying.  A part of him didn't even want to try and understand; he wanted the other teen to go away, to leave Kazunari alone with his thoughts and depression and regrets._

_He had no idea why he ended up opening the door instead, wide enough this time to let Kuroko Tetsuya – a stranger, a Teikou player, part of the team that had destroyed everything Kazunari had strived towards since he was a toddler – step inside._

_Perhaps it was because he felt like he had found a kindred spirit, or rather, that kindred spirit had sought him out when everyone else just wanted to bury themselves back into their lives and forget that basketball had ever existed_

_And perhaps it was also because he wanted to know exactly what was wrong with those Generation of Miracles that they had somehow even managed to screw over one of their own as badly as they had all their opponents._

 

 

* * *

 

 

                The first time they met up again after they had both entered high school, it was two days after the Shuutoku-Seirin game in the Interhigh preliminaries.

 

“Is that all you're having?”  Kazunari sighed as he chewed on his third burger and watched the passing specialist suck down a vanilla milkshake (still his first).  “What is wrong with your coach?  Shouldn't she have you on some sort of regimen?  Milkshakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner isn’t exactly what anyone would call a well-rounded diet.”

 

Kuroko shrugged, sipped, and stared absently out the window.

 

Kazunari twitched.  “Shouldn't you be happier?  Seirin just defeated Shuutoku.”

 

Kuroko glanced swiftly at him.  “Would you rather I boasted?  Or talked about it at all?”

 

Kazunari winced a little, and then sighed again.  “No.  It’s still too soon.  ...It was a good game though.”

 

This earned him a tiny almost-smile and brightened eyes.  “Yes, it was.”

 

“You still got the better of me in the end,” Kazunari complained, apparently determined to make himself feel bad by talking about the game anyway.  “I didn't know you could do that with your misdirection and my eyes.  But don’t think I won’t solve that problem by the next time we’re on opposite sides of the same court again.”

 

Another miniscule almost-smile, this one of anticipation.  Kazunari was on a roll today.

 

“You got the better of Shin-chan too,” Kazunari remarked and watched the fire flare in Kuroko’s eyes, tempered and controlled but no weaker than a supernova and only visible to Kazunari’s hawk eyes.

 

“I hope it will be enough,” Kuroko only said, quiet and calm.  No one would've been able to pick up the desperate hope behind it if they hadn't been listening for it like Kazunari was.

 

“Don’t worry,” Kazunari assured, a little more cheery than before as he reached out and patted Kuroko’s shoulder.  “I won’t leave him alone.  Frankly, I think he’s been a little better since I got my hooks into him, and this might be the push he needs to teach him how to play with the rest of the children on the playground.”

 

Kuroko surveyed him from behind his milkshake and said nothing more for the rest of their rendezvous at Maji Burger.  But there was gratitude in what little Kazunari could glean from his expression, and he had to concentrate on finishing off his own strawberry milkshake as he shoved a burger into Kuroko’s hands.  Otherwise, his tongue might slip and he might end up insisting that Kuroko had nothing to be grateful for because it was the phantom player who had gotten them to this stage in the first place.

 

After all, Kazunari wouldn't be in any position to save anyone if he hadn't first been saved himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                _“Why me?”  Kazunari asked as they huddled on the floor of his room with a bowl of his relieved mother’s chicken broth each.  “You don’t even know me.”_

_Kuroko shrugged.  “Midorima-kun crushed you in the game and didn't even notice.”  Kazunari winced at the bluntness of that statement, heart twisting painfully.  “And Akashi-kun did notice and crushed you after the game because of that.  I try to take notice of the ones they hurt most and make my rounds afterwards.”_

_“Rounds?”  Kazunari parroted in disbelief.  “So... you do this for other people?”_

_“For the worst,” Kuroko confirmed.  “And I only started recently even though the Generation of Miracles have been disrespecting their opponents since last year.  I didn't think to do this until this year’s Nationals, mostly because it’s gotten even worse.  Sometimes, it doesn't work.  Your captain slammed his door in my face.  Honestly, I expected you to do the same.  Most people do.”_

_“Oh,” Kazunari couldn't think of anything to say to this except- “But_ why _?  What does it matter?  Shouldn't you be... I don’t know, trying to talk your teammates into_ not _doing what they’re doing if you're really against it?”_

_Kuroko lowered his bowl and stared at him with empty eyes that made Kazunari shiver.  God, what the hell had those Miracles done to this guy?  Wasn't Kuroko supposed to be one of them?_

_“What makes you think I haven’t already tried?”  Kuroko enquired impassively.  “They don’t listen me.”_

_The silent ‘anymore’ got through loud and clear._

 

* * *

 

 

                Kazunari found him down by the beach, sitting by the shoreline with his bare feet in the rising tide of the ocean.  For a second, the mental image of someone as potentially fragile as Kuroko getting caught up in the formidable grasp of the ocean and being swept away forever filled his head.  He shook it off with a mental shudder and vaulted down from one of the sand drifts to join the blue-haired teen.

 

                “Yo!”  Kazunari greeted amicably, plopping down beside Kuroko who didn't so much as twitch with surprise.  He stuck his feet in the water as well, and then hastily took them out when the icy chill hit his skin.  “Man, that’s cold!  How are okay sitting here?”

 

                Kuroko glanced at him with a faraway gaze, not really seeing, and Kazunari could tell that it was one of _those_ times when the phantom player was off in his own head somewhere and thinking sad thoughts.

 

                Of course he was.  After the Seirin-Touou game, Kazunari would be shocked if Kuroko was partying it up or something (he’d be shocked if Kuroko was partying it up, period).  Kuroko’s team was helping but there was only so much other people’s encouragement and gestures could do when they didn't know the full picture.

 

                Which was where Kazunari came in – it was why he had snuck out here in the first place instead of remaining in his bed in the room he shared with Shin-chan like all good little basketball players should be at midnight, especially when tomorrow promised even more gruelling practices – so-

 

                “So what’s Iron Heart like anyway?”  Kazunari prompted.  “I’ve heard all sorts of things from my senpais and they've ranged from ‘dangerous’ to ‘quirky’ to ‘a decent guy but watch the hell out’.  Which is it exactly?”

 

                For a moment, Kazunari thought he’d be politely brushed off, but then Kuroko’s shoulders dropped a notch, stress that Kazunari hadn't even noticed but knew was there sliding away, leaving a minute shiver in its place.  He rolled his eyes, shrugged off his Shuutoku jacket, and draped it over the smaller teen’s shoulders.  Kuroko looked like he wanted to protest but Kazunari gave him a _look_ and was pleased when the passing specialist reluctantly subsided.

 

                “All of them,” Kuroko said after a moment’s consideration.  “The first when he’s on the court, the second when he’s off the court, and the last when he’s on and off the court.”

 

                Kazunari sweatdropped.  Iron Heart was starting to sound like a really strange guy.  Then again, Kazunari was surrounded by strange guys so he supposed it wasn't so astounding to hear that one of the Uncrowned Kings was equally bizarre.

 

                “He gives good advice,” Kuroko added thoughtfully but didn't expand on it.  Kazunari didn't need him to; he could guess that Kiyoshi had probably been a driving force in pulling Kuroko out of the funk he’d been in after the game against Touou (against _Aomine_ ).  Kazunari had been at that game, though he’d made sure not to let Shin-chan (with that ridiculous disguise) spot him in the crowd (he wouldn't mind if people found out he was friends with Kuroko but it was just easier for everyone involved if they kept their friendship in the shadows for now).  He’d seen Kuroko’s face after that game, and that non-expression had come so close to the one etched on the phantom player’s face after that Teikou-Meikou game that Kazunari had been torn between wanting to find Kuroko to make sure he would be okay and rushing the court right then and there to deck Aomine (which wouldn't have been smart).  He had ended up doing neither, forcing himself to walk away and give Kuroko some space, but it had been hard because even _Shin-chan_ had looked troubled for days afterwards.

 

                “That’s good,” Kazunari said instead.  He side-eyed the phantom player.  “You're gonna beat Aomine next time, right?”

 

                Kuroko stiffened, and then relaxed again, but Kazunari could sense his resolve anyway.

 

                “Yes,” Kuroko said, simple and to the point without a shred of hard proof to back him up, and Kazunari believed him one hundred percent.

 

 

                “Well,” He grinned slyly.  “Only if Shuutoku doesn't kick Seirin out of the running for a ticket to the Winter Cup of course.”

 

                Kuroko cocked his head in subtle but distinct challenge.  The light was back in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

                _“I never want to play basketball again,” Kazunari said out of the blue, three days after meeting Kuroko.  He was on his way to school after his mother had kicked him out of the house and thrown his book bag after him, and Kazunari had discovered that the reason for her rather gung-ho method was because Kuroko had been waiting for him on his doorstep.  To be honest, it was kind of creepy, and Kazunari had a feeling that he had been the one to encourage this creepiness all because he had let Kuroko in in the first place.  Maybe his – former – captain had had the right idea in slamming the door in Kuroko’s face._

_Said phantom player glanced at him now without reproach or disapproval or anything really, yet Kazunari still got the impression that Kuroko was upset.  “Please don’t say that, Takao-kun.”_

_Kazunari scowled, adjusting his grip on the strap of his bag as his stomach gurgled.  He hadn't even had time to eat breakfast before his mom had shoved him out the front door._

_A heartbeat later, a colourful-looking sandwich wrapped in plastic foil appeared in his line of sight.  He slanted a look at Kuroko before accepting it.  “You have mothering tendencies or something?”_

_Kuroko shrugged and didn't reply, still staring at him as if willing him to take his previous words about basketball back.  Kazunari huffed._

_“You don’t know what it’s like,” He argued, and at the back of his mind, he realized that he was already more lively right now than he had been for the past week.  “Those Miracles – they treat people like- like trash_ after _beating them into the ground.  It’s not even so much that I lost – people lose all the time – but they just- they just-”_

_“I know,” Kuroko said, and it pissed Kazunari off._

_“How would you know?”  He snapped, jaw tight.  “You're one of them!”_

_Kuroko’s expression never shifted, remaining as blank as unmarred paper.  Kazunari felt an instant twinge of guilt anyway because Kuroko_ wasn't _one of them.  Kuroko wouldn't be here at all if he was._

_“I’ll see you later, Takao-kun,” Kuroko only said, nodding at Kazunari’s middle school up ahead as they reached an intersection.  As he made to turn left, the phantom player stalled for a few seconds, craning his head around to look at Kazunari again.  “...I saw you play; you were amazing.  It was obvious that you love basketball very much.  If you give it up, I think the one who will regret it most will be you.”_

_And then he was gone, and even Kazunari’s hawk eyes couldn't keep up because of the swirling snow around them._

_He stared down at his feet for a long moment, Akashi’s malicious words fading into the background for once as Kuroko’s (“I saw you play; you were amazing.”) quiet voice replaced it._

_His gaze fell on the sandwich in his hand.  Slowly, he unwrapped it and took a bite._

_It was really good._

 

* * *

 

 

                104-104.  A tie.

 

                Kazunari glanced across the court to where Seirin’s regulars were standing around Kiyoshi, all of them with small smiles on their faces, even Kuroko.  Kuroko had become more open lately.  Compared to Teikou, it might as well be night and day ( _Eat that, Akashi.  You didn't break him after all._ ).

 

                It had been a satisfying game, and while there was a little disappointment at not pulling a win, Kazunari was still overall quite happy with the outcome.  It wasn't every day that a league match could end up so much fun for both sides.

 

                As he followed his team over to Seirin to exchange a few words, Kazunari caught Kuroko’s eye and offered a surreptitious grin that was returned with a tiny smile before both of them fixed their expressions into something a little more formal.

 

                “There will be no ties at the Winter Cup,” Kazunari spoke up, stopping in front of Kuroko with a brazen challenge underscoring his voice.  “Let’s settle things then.”

 

                Kuroko turned to face him, sweaty and tired and still smiling that near-nonexistent smile that meant he was happy.  Kazunari figured he himself looked about the same.  “I couldn't ask for more.”

 

                As they all converged in the middle of the court for the customary bows, Kazunari overheard the point guard – Izuki – commenting, “Isn’t that great, Kuroko?  You've got yourself a rival.”

 

“Figures you’d pick the only guy in Japan who can see you almost all the time with no problem,” Kagami interjected, approval lacing his gruff words.

 

“At least he’s not as annoying as that mouthy brat from Seihou,” Hyuuga grumbled.

 

Kazunari smiled to himself, and then noticed Shin-chan staring at him speculatively.  He grinned and waved with his usual carefree charm.  “Had fun, Shin-chan?  Our team was awesome today, weren’t we?  And you enjoyed playing with us; admit it!  You passed to us and everything, and I definitely saw you smiling!”

 

Midorima pulled his ‘I’m offended by your baseless assumptions’ face as they lined up in front of Seirin.  “It was all for victory, nothing more.  And I was not smiling.”

 

Kazunari snickered.  Tsundere.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                _It had been five weeks since the match against Teikou.  Kuroko had visited him six more times._

_(“Keep playing, even if only a very small part of you still wants to.  Don’t let the Generation of Miracles take that away no matter what.”)_

_Sometimes he spoke.  Other times, he simply dogged Kazunari’s footsteps like a sky blue shadow._

_(“Akashi-kun was wrong.  I think the people who have lost – who have been defeated, and still found the strength to stand back up – I think those people are the strongest of all.”)_

_Akashi’s voice had faded to an obscure corner of his mind.  Kuroko’s voice hadn't shut up._

_(“You’re strong, Takao-kun.  Akashi-kun is good at spotting strength, and he wouldn't have bothered saying anything to you if he hadn't thought you were a potential threat, no matter how small or dormant.  He wouldn't have bothered trying to destroy you even further if you had already given up completely.  And you hadn't then.  I hope you still haven’t now.”)_

_And Kazunari’s legs had finally carried him to the basketball court he usually practiced on.  There was a thin layer of snow everywhere but that didn't deter him._

_“One basket,” He said out loud as he stared at the hoop.  “One basket and I’ll leave.  It’s not like I miss it or anything.  I’m just here to... make sure my skills haven’t dulled.”_

_That sounded flimsy even to himself._

_He sighed, eyeing the ball in his hand before bouncing it twice, raising it into position, and letting it fly._

_The swish of the net didn't hurt his ears the way it had at the end of that fateful match._

_Before he knew it, he had retrieved the ball and fired off another shot._

_And another._

_And another._

_And another._

_A full five hours later, he was flat on his back on the court, breathing hard, muscles sore, tears trickling from the corners of his eyes, and laughing, laughing, laughing at the sky._

_He hadn't lost it after all, hadn't lost his innate love for a sport that had captured his heart and soul since he was seven years old.  The Generation of Miracles hadn't been able to take that from him._

_His hands were shaking from exhaustion and leftover adrenaline when he dug out his phone and pulled up Kuroko’s number.  And then he stopped because he had no idea what to say.  ‘I played basketball today’ didn't feel adequate, and a number of other things that popped into Kazunari’s mind were too embarrassing, even in a text message and even more over a phone call._

_So, in the end, he only sent one simple word that covered everything and would be understood without question._

_:Thanks.:_

_Thirty seconds later, as Kazunari headed home, his phone dinged with an incoming message._

_:I'm happy for you.:_

 

 

_Kazunari snorted and made a mental note to invite Kuroko over for dinner tomorrow._

 

* * *

 

 

                Kazunari knew he should be comforting Shin-chan because if _he_ felt like shit, then Shin-chan must feel a thousand times worse, but he _couldn't_ , not right now, not when the loss against Rakuzan was still so fresh, and all he could do was sit in a stall in one of the bathrooms in the building, chewing on his lip and swallowing his frustrated sobs even as bitter tears forced their way out of his eyes.

 

                If he knew Shin-chan (and at this point, there probably wasn't anyone else in the _world_ who knew Midorima Shintarou as well as Kazunari did), the shooting guard was probably outside in some deserted out-of-the-way corner crying _his_ eyes out.  Their senpais were most likely gathered in the Shuutoku changing room, for once waiting for the two of them instead of leaving them behind even as they dealt with their own disappointment.

 

                He had no idea how long he sat on the toilet, going over every pass, every shot, every play made against Akashi and his team in fine detail, but by the time he finally ran out of tears, he felt raw and wrung out and ready to tear Akashi a new one for the way he’d _still_ looked down on Shin-chan and him and the rest of Shuutoku after the game was over despite the tremendous, desperate fight they’d put up.

 

                Exiting the stall and heading over to the sinks to splash water on his face, Kazunari glanced up distractedly when the door opened, and then did a double-take when he caught sight of Akashi’s reflection in the mirror.  His entire body tensed.

 

                Akashi strolled inside, already back in his school jacket as a cold smirk twisted his lips.  “Ah, Shintarou’s partner.  I do recall playing against your team in middle school.  I warned you about getting above yourself, didn't I?  Losers will always remain worthless no matter how hard they try.”

 

                Kazunari, normally sociable and laidback even in the face of insults, turned to stare squarely at Akashi and sneered outright.  “Why do you even call him ‘Shintarou’ like you're friends or something?  You put him down and even humiliate him; do you take some sick pleasure from doing that to pretty much everyone?”

 

                Akashi just looked back at him with cool disdain.  “Shintarou is mine, just like the rest of the Generation of Miracles.  They all serve me.”

 

                Kazunari scoffed.  “You're unbelievable.  One of these days, you're gonna meet someone stronger than you, and they’re gonna drag you right off your throne and destroy that high and mighty attitude you've got going-”

 

                The rest of his words died in his throat when his eyes spotted silver – _scissorsthosearescissorswhatthefuck_ – hurtling towards him and stopping mere inches from his left eye.  Kazunari froze, fear seizing his lungs.

 

                “Know your place,” Akashi intoned casually as if the guy wasn't a _complete_ homicidal maniac.  “Losers are not allowed to look down on me.  Continue opposing me and I will kill you.  Understand?”

 

                Kazunari remained glued in place.  What the _hell_ was wrong with this lunatic?

 

                “Please stop, Akashi-kun,” A new but very familiar voice interrupted (and how long had he been there?), and Kazunari almost keeled over with relief as a head of pale blue appeared on his right, and Kuroko stared unblinkingly at his former captain until Akashi withdrew the scissors.  Somehow, it didn't feel like a victory.  More like an indulgent concession on the redhead’s part.

 

                “Tetsuya,” Akashi greeted, smiling courteously as if he hadn't just been threatening to gouge out Kazunari’s eyes.  “I take it you stayed to watch the entire game?  I hope it was enjoyable, despite the expected outcome.”

 

                Kazunari’s hackles automatically rose.

 

                “It was,” Kuroko agreed.  “Shuutoku played well against you.  Seirin will defeat Kaijou in the semi-finals, and then we will face Rakuzan as well.”

 

                Akashi’s heterochromic eyes reminded Kazunari of a snake’s.  “I confess, I am looking forward to that matchup.  You've always proven to be more interesting than Ryouta, Tetsuya.”

 

                A long silence followed, and then Akashi smiled again and made to turn away.  Kazunari blinked, and then jerked forward with a cry of alarm when those scissors darted forward again, this time aimed at Kuroko, and Kazunari was horrified when they actually drew blood, grazing a thin shallow line along the phantom player’s right cheek.

 

                “Oi-!”  Kazunari stumbled to a halt when Kuroko’s hand caught him by the wrist in a near-bruising grip.  The blue-haired teen was as straight-faced as ever.  The only sign of any apprehension was the slight widening of blank blue eyes.

 

                “As I've told you before, Tetsuya,” Akashi said silkily, scissors hovering beside Tetsuya’s right ear.  “You’d better be prepared if you're planning to fight me.  At the very least, if you want to stand against me, you shouldn't let your guard down.”

 

                Kuroko said nothing, motionless and silent as he stared straight back at his fearsome former captain.  Kazunari could only stay stock-still on the side, barely breathing as he kept one eye on the scissors and one eye on Akashi for any indication that the thin blades would dip towards Kuroko.

               

                And then, three pounding heartbeats later, the scissors were tucked out of sight again, and Akashi turned away at last.

 

                “I will see you in the finals, Tetsuya,” Akashi called back as he left, radiating smug condescendence and not even deigning to spare another glance at Kazunari.

 

                On his part, Kazunari didn't relax until the door had swung shut and the Rakuzan captain’s footsteps had faded away.  And then he rounded on Kuroko.

 

                “What the hell was that?!”  He hissed, grabbing the smaller teen by the shoulders and examining the cut on his face.  “Is he crazy?  Are _you_ crazy?  Why did you just stand there?”

 

                He ducked into a stall and came back out with toilet paper, wetting it before wiping away the drops of blood beading along the scratch.  He swatted Kuroko’s hand away when the passing specialist attempted to simply scrub the blood away with the back of his hand.

 

                “Akashi-kun has been like that since second year middle school,” Kuroko said with far too much composure in Kazunari’s opinion.  “He doesn't like people who stand against him, especially when they do it even after Akashi-kun has defeated them.  You should not have talked back to him, Takao-kun.”

 

                “Or he’d have stabbed me in the eye, right?”  Kazunari wasn't even joking.  He remembered now what Akashi had said during their match, how he’d told his own teammates that he’d gouge out his eyes if they lost the game, and said teammates had _believed_ him.  If Akashi would willingly do that to himself, Kazunari didn't think the lunatic would have any problems doing it to other people.

 

                “It’s just a scratch, Takao-kun,” Kuroko protested half-heartedly.  “It will heal.  More importantly, are you alright?”

 

                “I'm fine,” Kazunari dismissed through gritted teeth as he mopped up the last of the blood.  “Does he do this often?”

 

                “Not to us, usually,” Kuroko assured, and Kazunari took ‘us’ to mean ‘the Generation of Miracles’.  “But... I think Midorima-kun fought harder than Akashi-kun expected, and it’s bothering him a little even if he doesn't show it.  Or rather, Midorima-kun fought harder against Akashi-kun specifically than Akashi-kun expected, and that bothers him.”

 

                “Damn right he did,” Kazunari said with an overwhelming sense of pride for his best friend.  “Shin-chan was aiming for a win.”

 

                Kuroko smiled, just a little.  “My captain, Hyuuga-senpai, he said that you and Midorima-kun reminded him of me and Kagami-kun.  Our playing styles are different of course, but he called you two the ‘light and shadow’ of Shuutoku.”

 

                Kazunari faltered, staring, and then an unbidden, somewhat silly grin spread over his face.  “He did?  Heh, Shin-chan and I have really clicked, haven’t we?”

 

                Kuroko nodded, serious as he’d ever been, and despite the heartbreaking loss and the scare he’d just had, Kazunari couldn't help the warmth unfurling in his chest.  It even acted as a balm to soothe some of the disappointment sitting like lead in his gut.

 

                “I should go find Shin-chan now,” Kazunari announced as they trudged out of the bathroom.  “It’s my job to cheer that tsundere up.  How’d you find me anyway?”

 

                Kuroko blinked once.  “I left the stands right after the game and saw you duck into the bathroom.  I was sitting outside around the corner ever since.”  He paused and rifled through his bag before extracting two cans of cold coffee.  “I bought them after the game.  One for you, one for Midorima-kun.”

 

                Kazunari spluttered out an exasperated laugh.  “Comfort food, Kuroko?”

 

                “They’re drinks, Takao-kun,” Kuroko deadpanned, and Kazunari snorted.

 

                “Comfort _drinks_ then,” Kazunari swiped up both and bumped shoulders with the phantom player.  “Thanks.”

 

                Kuroko bobbed his head in acknowledgement.  They slowed to a stop when they reached the doors leading outside.  Neither of them said anything for a long minute.

 

                “...Hey, Kuroko?”  Kazunari returned the smaller teen’s questioning look with a fierce one of his own.  “I hate asking you this because I wanted Shuutoku to win this, _especially_ this, more than anything, but we can’t anymore so...” His hands clenched briefly around the coffee in his hands.  “Tear Rakuzan to the ground, okay?  And kick Akashi’s ass while you're at it.”

 

                His tone of voice was a little more bloodthirsty than he typically showed when speaking out loud but he figured he could be forgiven.

 

                Kuroko stared back up at him, steady as a rock, patient as time, and full to the brim with conviction.  “I have already given my word to my senpais, to Kagami-kun, and to myself.  Seirin will win.”

 

                And that was that.  Kazunari needed no other reassurances.

 

                As they parted, Kuroko returning to his team while Kazunari left to go hunt down Shin-chan, he found he couldn't wait to see the expression on Akashi’s face when one of the people who ‘served’ him finally brought his arrogant beliefs crashing to the ground.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“Hey.”_

_Kazunari glanced up, startled when he found his ex-captain standing in front of him.  He hadn't seen Aikawa since the game against Teikou.  He straightened after tying his shoelace.  “Captain, what is it?”_

_Aikawa examined him for a moment, not answering right away.  “I’m not your captain anymore.  ...You look better, Takao.”_

_“Yeah,” Kazunari thought of Kuroko.  “I've had a bit of help.  Someone talked me out of my depression trip.”_

_Aikawa nodded.  He didn't look particularly surprised.  “It’s that guy from Teikou, right?  The one I can’t seem to keep track of for more than a few seconds if at all?  I spotted him walking with you once.”_

_Kazunari rubbed the back of his neck.  He recalled Kuroko saying something about Aikawa and slamming doors.  “Um, yeah, it was him.”_

_Aikawa nodded again, distractedly.  His gaze skittered away to stare out at the rest of the school.  Kazunari noticed the way his eyes came to a rest on the empty outdoor basketball court in the distance, and there was – maybe – a stirring spark of longing in them._

_“Listen,” Aikawa turned back to him, looking slightly awkward.  “Could you tell him that I’ve decided to take a break from basketball for now but that I'm, uh, well, I've been considering some of the things he’s said to me and... I don’t know, I think I... might get back into it one day.  Tell him that, would you?  He seemed pretty worried even though he doesn't exactly know me.”_

_Kazunari’s eyes widened.  “I... Sure, of course.  But can’t you tell him yourself?”_

_Aikawa winced.  “I was kinda rude to him, the few times he came by at the beginning.  Just- tell him for me?”_

_Kazunari nodded, promising to pass on the message.  He continued staring dumbly after Aikawa even after the other teen had meandered away._

_Huh.  So Kuroko really was going around trying to make amends on the Generation of Miracles’ behalf in an attempt to save both the opponents they had shattered_ and _the five prodigies themselves._

_Kazunari snorted with disbelief.  Those Miracles were idiots.  How they had acquired Kuroko’s loyalty to this degree was a mystery he’d most likely never solve._

 

* * *

 

 

                “Takao.”

 

                Kazunari jerked awake from the nap he’d been taking on top of his... math textbook.  Oh, were they in math right now?  No wonder he’d fallen asleep.  It looked like the class had just ended though.

 

                “Yeah, Shin-chan?”  He yawned before tilting his head back to peer upside-down at the shooting guard sitting behind him.  “What’s up?”

 

                Shin-chan eyeballed him with a look that clearly said he was annoyed with Kazunari’s lack of discipline in class.  Kazunari grinned back unrepentantly.  Shin-chan sniffed and didn't bother wasting breath to reprimand him.  This time anyway.

 

                “I was under the impression that you and Kuroko interacted on the court,” Shin-chan said instead, and Kazunari abruptly righted himself before twisting around in his seat instead.

 

                “We... do...” Kazunari drew out with some perplexity.  “You've seen us.”

 

                Shin-chan pushed up his glasses in that way that told Kazunari he was feeling uncomfortable.  “Let me clarify – I was under the impression that you and Kuroko _only_ interacted on the court.”

 

                Kazunari tilted his head to the side, an inkling of why Shin-chan was asking beginning to dawn in his mind.  Still... “What’s this about, Shin-chan?”

 

                Shin-chan subtly twitched.  “I was walking by that new sushi restaurant two blocks down from Shuutoku yesterday when I happened to see you eating dinner with Kuroko.  Of course, I don’t care who you spend your time with; I simply found it somewhat strange since I was not aware that you two knew each other on a more personal level.”

 

                Kazunari stared and stared until Shin-chan began squirming without actually moving.  And then he grinned, wide and amused and fond all at once.  “Shin-chan, are you _jealous_?”

 

                Shin-chan instantly bristled like a porcupine under attack.  “Don’t be absurd.  As I’ve said, I was not aware of the fact that you knew Kuroko in a more personal capacity.  I am only asking out of professional curiosity.”

 

                Kazunari all but doubled over with laughter.  “‘Professional curiosity’?  What’s that?”  He caught the way Shin-chan’s shoulders tightened with embarrassment, and his whole frame shifted as if preparing to get up and leave.  Hastily, Kazunari curbed the last of his snickers and waved a hand.  “Now, now, Shin-chan, don’t go storming off.  If you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

 

                He paused as Shin-chan frowned but settled down again.  It _wasn't_ a big secret or anything – far from it – but it wasn't as if he or Kuroko had advertised it either.  It had been a sort of unspoken agreement between them that when it came out, it came out, so...

 

                Meh,” He shrugged, reclining back against his desk as he crossed his legs on his chair and rested his arms on the backrest.  “Kuroko and I are rivals on the court but we’re friends off of it.  It’s not like we meet up a lot or anything but we do get together for a meal now and then after a game or just on a random day to catch up.”

 

                “I see,” Shin-chan looked a little less peeved (jealous).  “Barring the dinner yesterday, I have never witnessed you two acting like friends so it took me by surprise.”

 

                Hm, an apology for sounding like an interrogator without actually apologizing.  Kazunari figured he was probably one of the few who could pick that up.

 

                “We don’t usually,” Kazunari expounded.  “Act like friends in front of people we know, I mean, mostly because the only times you've ever seen us is when we’re fighting it out on the court, and like I said, when we’re on the court, we’re rivals, even enemies.  It’s not like we go out of our way to hide it.  Much.  It just never really came up.  I was friendly with him during that training camp over the summer though.”

 

                Shin-chan adjusted his glasses again, embarrassed once more.  “I had thought that was because we had been thrown together with Seirin, and the two of us were often stuck with Kuroko and Kagami.”

 

                Kazunari rocked forward to prop his chin on his forearms.  “Makes sense.  I probably _would_ have acted like I did for that reason alone.”  He stopped again.  Why was he dancing around the issue?  He might as well come out and say it now.  “But it’s not like I magically became friends with Kuroko after that first Shuutoku-Seirin match either.  Eehh... how should I put this?  Hm, well, actually, I’ve known Kuroko longer than I've known you.”

                Silence.  Shin-chan’s mouth actually dropped open just a bit.  And then the blatant surprise was quickly tucked away out of sight.  Pity.

 

                “You have?”  Shin-chan sounded neutral.  Hmm.

 

                Kazunari shrugged again, scrutinizing his best friend and wondering if the taller teen was different enough from that disdainful jerk of a Miracle to accept what Kazunari was about to reveal.  “Yeah, met him back when we were both in our last year of middle school.  He came knocking on my door about four days after my basketball club was trampled in our match against Teikou.”

 

                Shin-chan flinched.  It was barely noticeable, just an understated flex of his shoulder muscles really, but Kazunari’s eyes weren't just for kicks, not to mention he _knew_ Shin-chan.

 

                “I was in a pretty bad place,” Kazunari admitted freely.  “My team disbanded after that game, nobody – including me – wanted to play basketball anymore, I stopped going to school for those days and just stayed cooped up in my room, my mom and sister were worried out of their minds over my sudden bout of depression, and then, completely out of the blue, Kuroko showed up on our doorstep, all polite and asking to see me.”

 

                Kazunari took a breath.  Shin-chan looked to be on the edge of his seat.  Figuratively _and_ literally.  And there was something brittle about his eyes all of a sudden.  Kazunari hesitated, wondering if he should wrap it up there, but Shin-chan seemed to sense his impending copout and swiftly prompted, “And then?”

 

                “I didn't want to see him at first,” Kazunari chuckled.  “I mean, he was _Teikou_ , enough said, plus he was the rumoured sixth member of the Generation of Miracles, and you guys back then were the last people I wanted anything to do with.  A part of me even thought that Kuroko had just come over to continue what Akashi said at the game-”

 

                “What did Akashi say?”  Shin-chan demanded, and this time, Kazunari was the one who was surprised by the faint trace of venom in the shooting guard’s voice.

 

                “Nothing important,” Kazunari dismissed, forging on when Shin-chan made to object.  “No really, it’s not important, Shin-chan.  Back then, I thought it was.  I took his words to heart, and that was mostly what caused my depression.  But then Kuroko came knocking on my bedroom door after he charmed my mom into letting him in, and he said he was there to apologize on behalf of his teammates, and he asked me if there was anything he could do to help.  _That_ surprised me enough to at least get me out of bed and find out what the heck he was going on about.  We talked, and... I ended up letting him into my room, and then we talked some more.  Kuroko has really good advice when you need it.  If you take the time to listen to him anyway.”

 

                He paused once more, surveying his best friend who was unnaturally still in his seat.  “...You should’ve seen his eyes back then.  They looked like mine when I was at my lowest point, and then they got even worse after Teikou won the Finals.  I think that was partly why I let him in at all.  He was Teikou, one of you guys, but for some reason, he had the same look under that emotionless mask of his that all the Generation of Miracles’ opponents always got in the end.  I wanted to know why.”

 

                Shin-chan’s expression remained as detached as usual.  Kazunari’s gaze flicked down for a moment.  The shooting guard had a death grip on his pencil.

 

                “Why was Kuroko there in the first place?”  Shin-chan asked stiffly.  “Just to apologize?  He did not know you then, correct?”

 

                “Mm-hm, but it wasn't just me,” Kazunari explained.  “He only started that year, I think for just a few months, maybe even just weeks, but he went around to other people in other schools too and tried to help them.  You know, encourage them to get back up and keep going.  Most of them didn't want anything to do with Kuroko once he had introduced himself but he kept trying anyway.  He said... He said that he didn't want people to start hating basketball because of what the Generation of Miracles had done to them, and also because... because he didn't want you guys to break once you realized what you had done to... _dozens_ of people.”

 

                Shin-chan’s eyes dropped, and Kazunari could tell it was shame this time, well-hidden and buried deep but still there under all those aloof layers.

 

                Midorima Shintarou really had changed, just as Kuroko had hoped.  Would wonders never cease.

 

                “You said he was even worse after Finals,” Shin-chan voiced abruptly, inflection not giving anything away.  “Why?”

 

                Kazunari’s eyebrows rose.  “You don’t know?  Well, he did say you and the other three probably didn't know, that it was just Akashi...”

                “What don’t I know?”  Shin-chan’s brow had scrunched up like a thundercloud.  “What did Akashi do that time?”

 

                Kazunari shook his head.  “Sorry, not my story to tell.  If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Kuroko.  All I can say is, he was a wreck after Teikou’s last game.”

 

                “Kuroko didn't even play in Teikou’s last game!”  Shin-chan’s voice kicked up a notch in volume, causing a few students to look their way.  The shooting guard either didn't notice or didn't care.  “Akashi kept him out because he was injured!”

 

                “Believe me, I know,” Kazunari sighed.  “And that was one of the reasons, though not the main one.  Just... After that game, Kuroko despised basketball.  It was because of that game that he quit, though truthfully, I think it was a long time coming anyway.  He helped me, and in the end, I think I helped him a bit in return too, kept him from- from _drowning_ in despair, you know?  Like he did for me.  But... it was close, really close; I think I was almost too late.  There was a point back then when I honestly thought he was going to walk away from basketball forever.”

                Shin-chan stared at him, speechless and a little paler than usual as if he simply couldn't compute _Kuroko_ and _walking away from basketball forever_ , as if it was an impossibility for someone who loved that sport as much as Kuroko Tetsuya did, who fought as hard as the phantom player _always_ did, to ever even _consider_ walking away from it.

 

                Kazunari leaned back, trying to find a way to turn the conversation onto a lighter track.  “I'm really glad I met Kuroko though, or I suppose I'm glad that he came and found me, and I decided to let him in.  If I hadn't had his help, I definitely would've quit basketball myself.”

 

                That was apparently the wrong thing to say because, with a loud crack, the pencil in Shin-chan’s left hand snapped in two.  The whole class was staring now.

 

                Kazuanri leapt up from his chair in alarm when Shin-chan began packing up.  “H- Hey, Shin-chan, what’s gotten into you?  What are you doing?”

 

                “Packing,” Shin-chan said curtly because he had a gift for stating the obvious.

 

                “We have English in two minutes,” Kazunari pointed out.  “Where are you even going?”

 

                “I'm skipping English,” Shin-chan declared, ignoring the second question, and half the class gasped because Midorima Shintarou did not skip anything (not even basketball practice, which Kazunari had heard that the other Miracles – sans Kuroko, but Kazunari had stopped truly counting Kuroko as one of the Miracles a long time ago – had all skived off from at the beginning).  “You’ll stay, Takao.  You actually need the lessons.  Don’t worry; I’ll bus so you won’t need to pull the rickshaw.  I’ll be back in time for practice at the latest.”

 

                “Eeehhh?!”  Kazunari gawked as Shin-chan slung his bag over one shoulder, swept up the red pajamas that was his lucky item of the day, and proceeded to march out of the classroom without a backward glance.  Part of Kazunari thought the shooting guard looked ludicrous toting around bright red sleeping clothes over his arm, though at least Shin-chan hadn't chosen to wear them.

 

                And then he scrambled to pack up his own things because _no way_ was he going to miss this.  He had a feeling he knew where Shin-chan was going, or at least he could take a guess at two places (and he really hoped it wasn't Rakuzan), and Kazunari wasn't going to stay in class of all places when Shin-chan went to confront either Akashi or Kuroko.

 

                Secretly tailing Shin-chan wasn't particularly difficult.  Kazunari could be sneaky when he wanted to be (he and Kuroko had often spied on Shin-chan and Kagami during their joint training camp), and Shin-chan was clearly preoccupied with his own thoughts anyway.  Kazunari even managed to duck into the same bus as his best friend behind a crowd of other people.

 

                Shin-chan only made one stop along the way (to Seirin, thank goodness; Kazunari would be first in line to punch Akashi in the face if the sadistic redhead tried anything with Shin-chan but he also wasn't too proud to admit that the Rakuzan captain scared the shit out of him).  But they were headed to Seirin, and Shin-chan only ducked into one store selling clothes before coming back out with a dark blue zip-up hoodie of all things, too small to fit Shin-chan.  Kazunari was going to go out on a limb and say that that was the lucky item for Aquariuses today.

 

                By the time they reached Seirin, lunch had just started, and students were pouring out of the school.  Shin-chan paused by the gates, seemingly torn between staying put and striding inside to find Kuroko.  The tsundere even pulled out his phone, only to fiddle with it for a minute before pocketing it again.  Several students walking by peered curiously at him, and Shin-chan adjusted his glasses and glowered frigidly at anyone who so much as glanced at him.

 

Kazunari rolled his eyes from where he was hiding around the corner.  _Honestly_.  With a sigh, he tugged out his own cell and fired off a text.  _:Shin-chan wants to talk to you.:_

 

Six seconds later, _:I have not received any calls from him.:_

 

Kazunari typed back gleefully, _:He’s standing at your school’s front gates looking like a dork.  Come and put him out of his misery.:_

 

Three seconds passed.  _:What did you do?:_

 

Kazunari felt he should be offended by how quickly the accusation came.  _:What makes you think I had anything to do with it?:_

 

_:You're texting me.:_

 

Kazunari sweatdropped.  _:Fine, point taken.  He saw us eating dinner yesterday and wanted to know when we became friends.  I told him about it.:_

 

This time, he counted twelve seconds.  _:Everything?:_

 

 _:No,:_ He sent back.  _:Just about how you came to my house and gave me a kick in the ass to get me living again.:_

 

_:...I hope for your sake that you didn't really word it like that, Takao-kun.:_

 

Kazunari laughed under his breath.  He could already picture Kuroko’s non-expression of stern admonishment.  _:Who knows^_^  Now are you coming out or not?:_

 

_:On my way.:_

 

Kazunari grinned and peeked around the corner again.  Not a minute later, his eyes caught Kuroko’s form drifting effortlessly through the crowd before stopping in front of Shin-chan.  Five seconds later, he snickered when the shooting guard jumped half a foot into the air after Kuroko made his presence known.

 

The two exchanged a few words before turning and heading up the street towards Kazunari’s hiding place.  Hurriedly, he dove behind two nearby bushes, hunching down and making sure he didn't have an elbow sticking out or something just before Kuroko and Shin-chan rounded the corner.

 

“-thing I can help you with, Midorima-kun?”  Kuroko was asking as they stopped a few feet away from Kazunari.

 

Shin-chan frowned, silent for a long moment before extending the hoodie in Kuroko’s direction.  Kazunari almost laughed out loud at the resigned air cloaking the phantom player as he accepted the sweater and draped it neatly over one arm.

 

“That is your lucky item for the day,” Shin-chan announced.  “Oha Asa predicted that Cancers should be partial to Aquariuses today to receive the best luck.”

 

With the ease of long practice, Kuroko nodded stoically, taking what Shin-chan had said in stride.  “Thank you, Midorima-kun.”

 

Shin-chan made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat, and then became quiet once more.  The shooting guard seemed to be struggling for words, and Kazunari knew for a fact that Kuroko was the epitome of patience and could possibly outwait even the apocalypse.

 

“I have recently heard about what you did for Takao,” Shin-chan began at last.  Kuroko inclined his head but said nothing.  “Therefore, I believe I should- thank you for it.  Of course, I am only doing this out of common courtesy.  Takao is an asset to Shuutoku, and it would've been a shame if he had quit.”

Kuroko blinked.  Kazunari’s jaw hung somewhere by his ankles.

 

Shin-chan – standoffish, prideful, taciturn, tsundere Shin-chan – had just thanked someone of his own freewill.

 

For Kazunari.

 

For Kuroko supporting Kazunari when he had needed it but it sort of amounted to the same thing in the end.

 

Kuroko, who could probably listen to news of Aomine becoming a crossdresser without batting an eye, merely nodded once.  “You're welcome, Midorima-kun.  To be honest though, Takao-kun made his own choice to take up basketball again.”

 

“Of course,” Shin-chan sounded downright haughty.  “He isn’t so weak as to simply lie down and let a stronger opponent walk over him forever.  ...I wouldn't think you would either.”

A stilted silence ensued.  There was a question hanging in the air.  Kuroko tugged absently at the zipper of his new sweater and didn't answer.  His gaze skittered away from Shuutoku’s ace.  Shin-chan watched him before releasing a short sigh.

 

“Don’t lose tomorrow,” The shooting guard ordered abruptly, already turning away and saying no more on the previous subject.  “Seirin has defeated all their other opponents to get to this point.  You've succeeded in toppling all the other Generation of Miracles as you've promised you would.  It’s only right for you to take down Akashi as well, so you better not lose.”

 

Kuroko straightened, hair fluttering on the breeze that blew past them at that moment.  His gaze returned to Shin-chan, intense and unwavering, and Kazunari could swear he saw the world in them.

 

                “I won’t.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

                _Kuroko had a ridiculously big house.  In fact, it was kind of intimidating.  Still, Kazunari hadn't hunted down Kuroko’s address only to turn back now.  Besides, he was fairly certain that the phantom player needed company right now._

_So he rang the doorbell and waited outside the elegantly-wrought iron gates for the intercom to come to life.  When nothing happened, he rang the bell again, counted to thirty, grimaced, sent up a prayer in the hopes of not getting arrested today, and then took a running leap at the gates, catching the top spires and pulling himself up before vaulting over them and dropping into Kuroko property._

_Not yet seventeen and already committing his first crime.  Wonderful.  Ah well, it was for a good cause._

_Scurrying up the winding garden path leading up to the three-story house (there was even a freaking fountain!), Kazunari reached the door and knocked.  Predictably, nobody answered, and he was about to weigh the pros and cons of climbing the side of the house since he didn't know how to pick locks when the doorknob he was half-heartedly fiddling with turned under his hand._

_“Well that’s safe,” Kazunari muttered sarcastically as he pushed open the door and stepped inside, kicking off his shoes along the way before shutting and locking the door behind him._

_He didn't waste much time admiring the decor, though the spiral staircase he was currently climbing was very nice.  He headed all the way up to the third floor where he guessed the bedrooms were.  It felt a little weird to be wandering around a house without permission but desperate times called for desperate measures, and since there were no guard dogs, butlers, or parents jumping out to ambush him, Kazunari figured the gods were on his side today._

_There were a row of closed doors on the third landing, lining both sides of the hallway.  Kazunari made a face and started knocking.  He really wasn't the best option for comforting people but Kuroko was his friend so... “Kuroko?  You in there?  It’s me!  You in this one?  Kuroko!  I figured you could use some company.  I saw the game two days ago, and you mentioned how you wanted to play against your childhood friend but couldn't because of your injury.  Did you... You saw the game too, didn't you?  What your teamma- What the Generation of Miracles did to fix the score?  That was a real shitty move.  If you want, I could go punch someone for you.  I’ll probably get beaten up myself, but for you, I'm willing to suffer the consequences.  ...Please tell me I didn't break into an empty house and just spent the entire time talking to myself here-”_

_Two doors down from the one Kazunari was banging on opened, and a familiar small-framed figure shuffled out._

_Kazunari stared, fist momentarily forgotten in the air.  And then he swore and rushed forward.  “Aw jeez, Kuroko-”_

_Kuroko’s eyes weren’t blank anymore.  When they were blank, Kazunari had still been able to glean some life from them, that spark in all human beings that said they were still alive._

_Right now though, Kuroko’s eyes were dead.  Empty.  Void of life.  It was like a reverse situation of when Kazunari had sunken into depression, except somehow, this was worse._

_Worriedly, Kazunari steered Kuroko back inside the room to where the only thing that looked like it had been touched was the bed.  He manoeuvred the other teen back onto it before pulling up the desk chair and sitting down in front of Kuroko._

_Right, now what?_

_“Do you want to talk about it?”  Kazunari offered lamely.  Kuroko just stared at him, looking like he was lost in his own head if he was there at all._

_Maybe something to distract him then?_

_“Want me to make you food?”  Kazunari proposed instead, already getting up.  “When was the last time you ate anyway?  You're already thin enough as it is, and for some reason, you think vanilla milkshakes will keep you alive forever.  You can’t afford to not eat.  Stay here and I’ll make you something warm.”_  


_A hunt for the kitchen and forty minutes later, Kazunari returned with two bowls of the same chicken broth that his mother had made for them that first day Kuroko had come over to his house.  It took some coaxing, but after he had pretty much shoved the bowl into Kuroko’s hands and nudged at him until the phantom player began eating, albeit rather mechanically, Kazunari counted it as one success in his books._

_The rest of the day was spent with Kazunari chatting about everything under the sun, keeping up a relatively constant stream of upbeat – if one-sided – conversation.  He only stopped to let his mom know that he’d be staying the night at Kuroko’s, and he also whipped up dinner after finding some pasta.  And then it was eleven-thirty at night, Kazunari was slaving over his math homework, and Kuroko was still sitting on the bed, a mug of hot chocolate that Kazunari had pushed on him in his hands._

_“You don’t have to stay, Takao-kun.”_

_Kazunari jerked around, relief immediately flooding him when he found Kuroko looking at him.  The teen still looked mostly lifeless but at least he was responding._

_“Yeah I do,” Kazunari disputed, pushing away from Kuroko’s desk and rolling over to the bed.  “No way am I leaving you alone in this state.”_

_He received a lethargic blink.  “...You’re too persistent, Takao-kun.”_

_Kazunari motioned between them.  “Well, we’re friends, right?  Friends have to be persistent sometimes.”_

_Another blink.  “People I talk to don’t keep coming back, even after they start playing basketball again.”_

_Kazunari cocked his head.  Huh.  Well, he_ had _wondered about that.  When they weren’t each in school, Kuroko was always free to spend time with unless he was practicing basketball on his own somewhere (because apparently, Teikou didn't hold practices anymore) or playing psychologist with a bunch of seriously despondent people.  A few times, Kazunari had even tagged along, and after having five doors slammed in their faces and then successfully cheering up that one guy from Youmi Junior High, he had understood why Kuroko always tried so hard no matter how many times he failed.  Even one out of five felt like an accomplishment when the competitive light re-entered a basketball player’s eyes._

_“Why not?”  Kazunari asked, honestly curious.  “I like hanging out with you.”_

_Kuroko looked like he wanted to sigh.  “Because you're the only one who can see me for any length of time.  People don’t like hanging out with someone they can’t see, so I only stay long enough to make sure they’ll be alri-”_

_“That’s just dumb!”  Kazunari exclaimed, irritation flaring.  He was pleased to see something flicker in Kuroko’s thousand-yard stare.  Not quite life but_ something _, which was better than nothing.  “It’s because of you that they’re healing at all!  They should at least take the time to get to know you even if it’s hard to keep track of you!”_

_Another flicker of emotion, and Kazunari caught the way Kuroko’s hands tightened briefly around his mug.  “...Thank you, Takao-kun.”_

_Kazunari flushed with embarrassment but recovered quickly enough, grinning broadly.  “That’s what friends are for.  ...How are you feeling?”_

_Kuroko didn't answer right away, and when he did, his words came out sluggish, like he was drugged or something.  “...Ogiwara-kun transferred schools.  I tried to go see him, to apologize, but he’d already left, and his captain said he was terrified of the Generation of Miracles.  Of their eyes.  Of_ my _eyes.  He’s given up basketball.”_

_Kazunari winced at how badly things had deteriorated but said nothing; he sensed that Kuroko wasn't finished now that the words were finally coming.  Instead, he clambered to his feet and took a seat beside Kuroko on the bed, shoulders brushing and acting as a grounding presence._

_“It’s my fault,” Kuroko’s eyes were haunted now.  “I made a promise to Ogiwara-kun that we’d face each in the Finals but I couldn't because I was injured, so instead, I told Akashi-kun not to go easy on Meikou, to show respect by not holding back.  Akashi-kun promised he would show Meikou’s team Teikou’s true strength, and they ended up_ toying _with Meikou instead.  It’s_ my _fault-”_

_“That’s bullshit,” Kazunari interrupted harshly for the second time in five minutes.  “Anyone with half a brain would put the blame where it’s due – Akashi.  And the rest of those so-called Miracles.  You didn't ask to be injured.  You didn't ask your captain to humiliate your childhood friend and his team by purposefully fixing the score.  This isn’t your fault; don’t be an idiot.”_

_Kuroko continued looking bleak, fingers contracting around the mug in his hands.  When he spoke again, Kazunari’s heart nearly stopped.  “...I quit basketball as well.  I turned in my resignation to the coach yesterday.”_

_No.  No, no, no.  There was no way things had gone to shit this badly all because one red-haired bastard had made it his life’s goal to break as many people as humanly possible._

_Kazunari seized Kuroko by the shoulders, knocking the smaller teen’s drink to the floor in the process and spilling the contents onto the carpet.  He ignored it and gave the phantom player a rough shake.  “Hey, no!  No way!  You love basketball, Kuroko!  You can’t just quit!  Look, we can find your friend and snap him out of his funk!  You've practically made it your business to help people like him!  I’ll come with you!  We’ll search every middle school in Japan if we have to.”_

_Kuroko stayed limp, head drooping with more defeat than Kazunari had ever seen in the passing expert._

_“Right now,” Kuroko said softly.  “I hate basketball, Takao-kun.  I don’t want anything to do with it anymore.”_

_Kazunari’s hands dropped away, stunned.  “...Don’t say that.”_  


_Kuroko just shook his head.  Kazunari grinded his teeth together._

_“Don’t say that!”  He barked, and Kuroko actually started a little at the sudden rise in volume.  Kazunari prodded him in the chest with a finger.  “You don’t get to quit or give up, not after the way you wouldn't let me do the same.  If I can pick up a basketball again, so can you.  You don’t want to play right now?  Fine.  But don’t say long-lasting things like ‘anymore’.  You can take a break, but you’ll get back into it eventually because I know you, I know how much you love basketball, and people like you won’t just be able to give it up.”_

_It was at this point that Kuroko’s eyes come alive again, just a bit, if only because they now looked over-bright with that glassy quality that meant that he was on the verge of tears.  Kuroko’s facial muscles never so much as twitched though.  His expression didn't crumple like a normal sad person’s, or even crease together, remaining smooth and vacant, and that just made the entire situation even more depressing._

_Which was why Kazunari didn't hesitate to pitch forward and wrap the blue-haired teen a squeezing hug._

_Kuroko never made a single sound, even when a wet patch grew on Kazunari’s shirt, and in the end, that was how they fell asleep, sprawled half-on, half-off the bed, Kuroko curled in on himself with Kazunari partially draped on top of him._

_It was surprisingly not awkward in the morning.  Kazunari was pretty sure that Kuroko didn't do awkward, and he himself saw the phantom player as a brother – younger or older depending on the circumstances – despite only having known Kuroko for several weeks.  Sharing sleeping space didn't seem too big a deal._

_It took nearly two months for Kuroko to haul himself out of the chasm of dark despair that the Generation of Miracles had ruthlessly thrown him into, two months in which Kuroko actually looked sick if he so much as heard the swish of a basketball net.  Kazunari was practically fanatical in following Kuroko around during those months, either sleeping over at Kuroko’s house (the parents were_ never _there, and Kuroko had ended up giving Kazunari a key to the place) or dragging the teen over to Kazunari’s house.  Kazunari’s mother was more than willing to stick Kuroko in the guestroom (and give him a key as well), and Himawari had adored the phantom player almost to the point of hero worship ever since Kuroko had ‘saved’ Kazunari back in November._

_People were good for Kuroko, Kazunari had come to realize.  The invisible boy with the lack of presence wasn't really a loner by choice.  He had simply learned to live with it because he_ had _to.  Kuroko was naturally quiet and calm but he didn't like being alone.  So Kazunari made sure he wasn't._

_And then, on the thirty-first of January at three in the afternoon when they’re both bundled in winter clothes and perched on a stair rail that overlooked the ocean sparkling under the winter sun in the far distance, hot drinks warming their hands with their breaths coming out in white puffs, Kuroko, newly sixteen, announced, blunt and straightforward with the sort of grim determination that refused to allow even closet space for failure, “I'm going to defeat them.”_

_Kazunari didn't understand right away.  “Huh?”_

_Kuroko glanced at him, clear-eyed and certain and burning with an inner fire, suddenly more alive than Kazunari had ever seen him._

_“The Generation of Miracles,” Kuroko clarified, fingers brushing against the black wristband he had taken to wearing every day.  “They’ll all be going to different schools.  I will too.  And then I'm going to defeat them with my team.  Each and every one.”_

_Kuroko had no proof to back him up, not even the skill to make his declaration come true at that point in time, nothing but words pronouncing a goal that seemed utterly unattainable, and yet-_

_And yet, staring at the unassuming, largely unnoticed, pokerfaced teen, somehow, Kazunari still believed that Kuroko Tetsuya would be able to pull it off._

 

 

* * *

 

 

                To someone standing outside, the stadium probably sounded as if an explosion had taken place in it.  In a way, it had.

 

                The ceiling shook with the roar of cheers coming from rows upon rows of spectators and fans, most of them basketball players from an amalgam of teams all celebrating Rakuzan’s downfall and Seirin’s triumph.

 

                The players themselves had to brace their legs, wheezing for breath and trembling with fatigue, but while the Rakuzan players were bent over with disappointment, Seirin was on top of the world, all of them with helpless smiles or goofy grins splitting their sweaty faces.  They had fought like hell to win the Winter Cup, clawing their way to the top, getting up again and again and again and _again_ no matter how many times Rakuzan stomped them into the ground, and they had _won_.

 

                Seirin had toppled the Emperor and conquered his empire, finally taking the title of the strongest high school basketball team in Japan.

 

                “Let’s get down there, Shin-chan!”  Kazunari shouted over the babble of voices all around them as the score was properly announced and the gym began to flood with well-wishers and reporters all wanting to congratulate Seirin even though they looked ready to collapse.

 

                Shin-chan scanned the crowds with disdain but acquiesced with a long-suffering sigh that didn't match the gleam in his eyes when the rest of Shuutoku agreed.  They bumped into Kaijou and Touou’s regulars along the way, and then even Yousen’s Murasakibara and Himuro when they were halfway down the stairs.  Kazunari kept up a cheery grin even in the face of the other Generation of Miracles.  It wasn't them he had a major grudge against, not anymore.

 

                They fought their way through the throng of jostling individuals, and once they were recognized as the main teams that had competed in the Winter Cup, most of the crowd actually cleared a path for them.

 

                At the center of the gym, Seirin was sprawled on one side while Rakuzan was scattered on the other.  Kazunari paid the latter no mind as he located Kuroko who had literally collapsed on the floor, sides still heaving, too exhausted to even stand.

 

                Kazunari grinned and bounded forward, flinging himself to the ground and tackling the phantom player with a hug.  “You were amazing, Kuroko!”

 

                There was an uncontrollable smile on Kuroko’s lips.  For once, no one had to look twice to spot it, and Kazunari beamed back, pulling away only enough to take in Kuroko’s fiercely happy expression.

 

                “Amazing,” He repeated, an echo of Kuroko’s own words once upon a time, and the smile on the phantom player’s face became the tiniest of grins, helplessly curving his lips and lighting up his eyes.  Kazunari grinned back and hugged him again, and this time, he felt Kuroko sling an arm around his own back in return, clumsy but genuine.  It was the first hug Kazunari had ever seen Kuroko give anyone who wasn’t Himawari.

 

                “Oi, hands off!”  Kagami growled from somewhere behind Kazunari.  “You're too familiar with him, bastard!”

 

                Kazunari snorted but released Kuroko and climbed to his feet before extending a hand towards his surrogate brother.

 

                “Keep your hair on, Kagami,” Kazunari drawled cheekily as he levered Kuroko to his feet, holding the teen up when it became clear that there was no way Kuroko would be able to stand on his own anytime soon.  “I'm just being nice.  I’d help you too but you're too tall.”

 

                Kagami twitched violently and scowled but it was half-hearted at best, a knee-jerk reaction more than anything else.  The buoyant joy from winning the Winter Cup kept all of Seirin on cloud nine.

 

                “You two seem a little too familiar with each other,” The female coach – something Riko – eyed them both suspiciously as she helped Kiyoshi forward.  Iron Heart was limping; Kazunari suspected there would be surgery involved in the near future.

 

                “Naturally,” Shin-chan cut in loftily, looking amusingly superior in his position of knowledge.  Kazunari shared a humorous glance with Kuroko.  “They have been friends since middle school.”

 

                A noticeable startled hush fell over the group despite the ovation still coming from all sides.

 

                “Since middle school?!”  More than one voice exclaimed.

 

                Kazunari rolled his eyes.  “You’d think we’d just announced we were long-lost twins or something.  Get a grip.”

 

                His gaze slid over to where Akashi was huddled on the floor several feet away.  He felt a spark of pity but that was it.  However, he did frown when the captain raised his head.  Tears were leaking from his eyes – his two red eyes.

 

                “Wasn't he heterochromic, Kuroko?”  Kazunari asked with some bewilderment.

 

                “The Akashi-kun you've always known, yes,” Kuroko confirmed quietly.  “This Akashi-kun however hasn’t been seen since our second year in middle school.  This is the Akashi-kun that the original Generation of Miracles once followed.”

 

                Shocked murmurs swept over the gathered teams.  Kazunari himself was flabbergasted.  Did that mean-?  What did that mean?  That there were two Akashi Seijuurous?  As in a split personality or something?

 

                He had no more time to think on it when Kuroko detached himself from Kazunari’s supporting arms, almost falling flat on his face as he staggered over to the fallen form of the Rakuzan captain.  As if on cue, the other Generation of Miracles stepped forward one by one – Kise Ryouta, Midorima Shintarou, Aomine Daiki, and Murasakibara Atsushi – and they all gathered around their former captain and the teen who had once been their conscience and their heart and their soul, a range of different colours as they stood together like beacons of light, all of them with their intensity that drew everyone’s eyes like moths to a flame.

 

                Kazunari never found out what Kuroko said to Akashi in those moments but he figured it was private anyway, and the only thing he really cared about was that Akashi’s eyes stayed red and the scissors stayed gone.

 

                But then Hyuuga was stalking forward, an irritable expression on his face as he ushered Kuroko back into Seirin’s midst, eyeing Akashi mistrustfully before instructing everyone who wasn’t Seirin to scram because the team needed to change, rest, and celebrate.

 

                And then he was interrupted by another teenager Kazunari had never seen before, but when the stranger practically threw himself at Kuroko in a tearful hug even more heartfelt than Kazunari’s, Kazunari could take a wild guess that this was the elusive Ogiwara Shigehiro.

 

                In the end, three hours later, somehow or other, everyone ended up at Kuroko’s house with the celebrations only just getting started even though it was already past eleven.  Even Seirin, bone-tired, was still hyped up on their win – and would probably remain that way for at least a few days – and were partying as hard as everyone else.

 

                Kazunari found Kuroko out front, sitting on the ledge of the fountain.

 

                “Here,” He passed the phantom player a mug of hot chocolate before taking a seat beside him, a drink in his own hands.  “Shouldn't you be celebrating?”

 

                Kuroko inclined his head.  “I will return in a few minutes.”

 

                Kazunari quirked an eyebrow.  “A bit overwhelming?”

 

                Kuroko looked thoughtful.  “Yes, but in a good way.”

 

                “Hm, I bet,” Kazunari tilted his head back and stared up at the star-studded sky.  “You did it.”

 

                There was no need for clarification, though Kuroko did correct, “ _Seirin_ did it.”

 

                Kazunari smiled faintly, clinking their drinks together.  “Seirin then.  Shuutoku will be gunning for the title again next year though.  And we won’t go easy on you.”

 

                Kuroko nodded, and there was no mistaking the glint in his eyes.  “I wouldn't expect anything less, Takao-kun.”

 

                “‘Kazunari’,” Kazunari rectified abruptly.  “Or just ‘Kazu’.  It’s stupid to keep calling me by my surname.  And I’ll call you Tet-chan.”

 

                “Please don’t,” Kuroko deadpanned, and Kazunari snickered.

 

“Don’t know why I haven’t before,” He mused out loud.  “I call Shin-chan ‘Shin-chan’.  Then again, I only started calling him that at the beginning to annoy him.”

 

He trailed off, a companionable silence settling over them as distant chatter made up their background music.

 

                “I don’t think I ever told you,” Kazunari remarked idly.  “I'm really glad you showed up at my door that day.”

 

                Kuroko – Tet-chan – glanced over, eyes reflecting moonlight and giving the impression of a banked fire.  “Yes, I am too.”

 

                Kazunari grinned again, and neither of them moved until Shin-chan and Kagami came storming out, hollering for their respective shadows to stop being recluses (which was rather rich coming from Shin-chan, in Kazunari's humble opinion) and rejoin the party (or 'suffer through the party' in Shin-chan's words).

 

                Tet-chan smiled his half-smile.

 

                Kazunari laughed.

 

                Life was good.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                _“So you've chosen Seirin, huh?  Think they’ll be strong enough to reach the top?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Hm, alright then.  Shuutoku will see you there.”_

_“I look forward to it.”_

_“Likewise.”_

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Meeting Of Prodigies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742133) by [EyeOfKaleidoscope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeOfKaleidoscope/pseuds/EyeOfKaleidoscope)




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